


"You're drunk." "No, I'm Peter."

by K_Vader



Category: Deadpool - All Media Types, Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: A lot of Bad Jokes, Drunk Peter, Established Relationship, Fun, Jealous Wade Wilson, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-16
Updated: 2016-11-16
Packaged: 2018-08-31 10:21:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,645
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8574592
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/K_Vader/pseuds/K_Vader
Summary: Drunk Peter is fun and cute.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SomeOldLady33](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SomeOldLady33/gifts).



> This one is for you because you are awesome :)
> 
> Btw, there's a [中文](http://luffysweetieursosexy.lofter.com/post/1d491e2c_d2c6064) translation for this story :3 thanks to this sweetie <3

If you have a rough day, everyone's been a jerk and you want nothing more than just escape from the world, from everything and maybe relax for a while, where do you go? Yes, you go exactly to the place you _shouldn't_ go.

Entering the Sister Margaret's bar, he looks at his phone: five lost calls from Tony, three texts from Gwen, four from Harry and ten lost calls from Wade. He just slides the phone through the pocket of his jacket and puts a hand up to Weasel who is about to speak.

"Don't tell him I'm here," he says plopping down the chair. Weasel nods and keeps talking on the phone.

"Yeah no... No, he's not here... Mhm... I know... I'll tell him if I see him... K, bye." he hangs up and sighs before turning back to Peter "You know he's gonna kill me if he finds out you're here, right?"  


Peter shrugs "He doesn't have to know."

Weasel sighs again and presses his glasses up his nose. Peter mimics him and they both stay quiet.

"So... I know I shouldn't ask."

"Then don't." Peter prompts immediately

Weasel nods and puts a glass over the bar. "Whaddya want?"

Peter has no knowledge in alcohol matters, his last drink was when his uncle died and he honestly can't even remember what it was. He just drank whatever that could make him get out of the world. Just what he wanted today.

"Um... alcohol?" Peter asks, to which Weasel laughs and turns around.

"K, I'll give you some tequila shots with lime. We never use the lime because those things are fancy, but you will need some, because trust me, that thing is strong." Peter pulls his hoodie up while watching Weasel doing his job. Looking around he finds himself so lost between the people surrounding him "Here."

The shot shines and Peter's eyes do the same. Weasel puts a plate with pieces of lime in front of him and salt.

"How do I-"

"Is easy, you pour some salt on top of your hand, shove the salt into your mouth, drink the shot and suck the lime. Everything as fast as you can, so everything mixes perfectly."

"Like all at once?" asks Peter confused. He might have understood some of what Weasel just said.

"Well no. First the salt, then the shot. Those two together, trying not to spill the liquor, of course. You drink that and then the lime."

They stay quiet, Peter processes the information and then nods. Weasel takes another shot out and fills it.

"I'll join you with the first one, ready?" Peter nods "K... One, two..."

He shoves the salt into his mouth, then drinks the tequila as Peter follows, and finally the lime. Peter coughs a little, so Weasel looks up, but Peter is already with the lime, wrinkling his face as he sucks.

"Aargh... nngh... oh God."

"Told ya." Weasel smiles proudly. He knows what’s good.

"I want another one of those." Peter says and now Weasel's expression change.

Yes, he can't decline drinks to costumers, but this is Peter, he's a friend. Weasel can take care of him, sure, but his life is in danger here. Wade will already kill him for not telling him where Peter is, and if he finds out Peter is drunk and alone... He gulps.

"You sure kid?" Peter narrows his eyes.

"I'm paying," he says and Weasel sighs.

"You better, because the cost of my life shouldn't be free."

He fills another shot and may the force be with him.

 

~*~

 

"WHERE THE FUCK IS HE?"

After seven shots he stopped counting and had to call Wade. First because he no longer could take care of Peter, and second because he first thought the kid would be the sleepy kind of drunk, but who would've say Peter had so much energy trapped inside that tiny body. Even worse he gets freaking horny.

"I feel like I should explain a little."

"I feel like I don't give a fuck," Wade retorts "where is he, Weas? I'm not kidding here."

 _'No shit.'_ Weasel thinks as he looks at the very angry expression on Wade's face. What was going through his mind when he agreed on giving all that alcohol to the boyfriend of his overprotective best friend is out of his mind.

"Okay, there’s a reason Peter has not answered any of your texts."

"Why?" Wade growls and Weasel already know he's in trouble because of the look he gets from the other, not to mention the constant growling.

"The thing is..." He rubs the back of his neck trying to find the right words because his life literally depends on it. "That pretty Iphone you gave your boyfriend on Christmas, um... kind of ended up in the blender."

"What the actual-?"

"Yes yes I know, let me finish." another growl in response and Weasel nods.

"Um so, Peter put it there." Weasel raises both hands when Wade frowns and gives him an unpleased look. "Trust me I have nothing to do with that, the phone was already pretty damaged when I found him."

"How the fuck-?"

"He said he was making apple juice."

There's an awkward silence and Weasel fights not to laugh because he knows everything he's saying makes no sense. Besides, Wade's expression is very funny as he doesn't know whether to laugh or cry. At the end he just sighs.

"Where is he?"

"Follow me."

They start walking to the corner of the bar, where Peter is lying over two chairs that are together trying to make it comfortable for him. Wade sighs again and Weasel shrugs.

"Should we wake him up or...?" Weasel asks and Wade nods, crouching down in front of Peter.

"Baby Boy." he calls, nothing. Wade puts a gentle hand over Peter's arm and squeeze it. "Petey?"

Peter jumps and Wade catch him before he makes an amazing Spider-man act for the crowd. Peter looks around confused and then turns to Wade, finally realizing he's being carried bridal style.

"You're strong," he says, eyes wide open "I wanna date ya." Wade can't stop a laugh and Peter smiles drunkenly.

"You're drunk."

"No, I'm Peter."

"Okay baby boy, time to go home."

"Noo!" Peter whines trying to get down "That guy promised he would take me to the woo land," he says pointing at an old creepy man, who looks away after probably being staring the whole time. Wade gives Weasel a deadly look, and the other puts his hands up as if he had just been assaulted. 

"Hey! In my defense, I was working... Maybe?"

Wade puts Peter down and he suddenly starts crying. Wade looks at Weasel confused and he shrugs.

"I'm a murderer." Peter says sniffing. Wade keeps the confused expression but leans to face him.

"What is it, baby?"

"Look!" he pouts and points at the table. There's some rests of alcohol and Goldfish crackers on it. "I ate them while laughing," he says and starts crying again.

"Oh..." Wade has no idea of what to do, so he just hugs him and looks at Weasel who is rubbing the back of his neck.

"Um... it's okay Pete, look." Weasel takes the glass with the remaining alcohol and pours the goldfish crackers in it. "They are swimming now."

Peter smiles wide, lets go of Wade and leans to have a better view of the fishes. "They look so happy," he mutters with an entangled tongue.

"Uh yeah," says Weasel, who has to deal with this every day. The only difference is that they are never as innocent as Peter.

Peter stands back up and looks over his shoulder at Wade, his eyes shine again. "You are handsome." he says smiling.

"I've been told." Wade says containing a laugh. "You are very pretty."

Peter chuckles and hides his blushed face behind his hands "Let's make out... I tried with that guy, but he punched me," he says, pointing at a thick biker sitting at the bar. Wade turns angry at Weasel again, who laughs nervously, but Peter is not over yet, "I get it tho, I grabbed his butt."

"WHAT?" the angry growling is back and Weasel steps back slowly.

"Oh listen to that, someone's calling me."

" _Weaseel!_ " Wade grunts again and Weasel flinches.

"I called you, that's more than any other friend would've done."

"Why are you so angry?" asks Peter, scowling while looking at Wade.

"Not with you... not entirely." grunts Wade.

Peter doesn't like that answer, because his bottom lip starts trembling and his eyes are all glazy. Wade’s expression change immediately, and he feels like panicking.

"Nonono, that's not what I-"

Too late, Peter is crying again.

"You are angry at meee!"

"No, I'm not, see?" Wade tries to smile but Peter keeps crying.

"Is it because of the fishes? They are swimming again."

Wade turns at Weasel with panic eyes "Some help maybe?"

"What? My drunk people are never so cute," Weasel shrieks "they usually hit each other. I have no idea of what to do in this cases."

"I have some fishes at my place." Wade says suddenly, and Peter stops crying.

"You do?" he asks interested.

"You do?" Weasel asks confused, and Wade rolls his eyes.

"Yep, they swim a lot," he says ignoring the other. Peter smiles and nods.

"Let's go there," he says excitedly, so Wade lifts him from under the knees and Peter wraps his arms around Wade's shoulders as he nuzzles against his neck.

"You zmell good." he says, looking at Wade with a big smile. Peter leans down to kiss him but suddenly stops and he wrinkles his face. "I think I don't feel that well."

Wade sighs and nods, turning to Weasel "Call Dopinder, we need a ride, and tell him he might need to wash his cab tomorrow."

**Author's Note:**

> I posted yesterday, but somehow kept writing, and this one made me laugh today when I re-read it, so I had to post it (because I may or may not have been a little bit drunk last night.)


End file.
